by Ben Hale
"So I'm stubborn?"
He laughed at her tone. "You might not be able to see it, but everyone that comes in contact with you feels it too. It makes us hold on when we want to quit. From the moment you arrived at the school, you have led. It's why I prepared for your return from the Dark. Even absent and fallen you have an impact on others. We fought because of you."
She didn't know what to say. Stel darted to her side and wrapped around her arm, hugging her again as if he agreed with Derek. Her throat tight, she stroked his back, eliciting a raspy purr.
"I'm not even seventeen," she finally said. "I can't just step up and lead the world. Even if I could, people aren't going to listen."
"They already do." He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "But I never said you had to do it alone."
She grunted, unconvinced, and abruptly pulled out of his arms. Rising to her feet, she said, "If I fail the world will cease to exist."
Before he could respond she leapt into the air and flew away.
Epilogue: The Heart of Tryton's
Tess awoke in the dead of night, her dream so vivid that she couldn't shake it. In minute detail she'd watched the Dark expand. Victorious, Alice had floated above it all, her eyes glittering with hatred. It was a nightmare she had experienced before. This close to the end it felt real.
Two days until they reach the coast, until the last battle begins . . .
The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She rose and moved to the back porch before rising into the night. It had been three days since her conversation with Derek, and his last words continued to linger in her mind. They closely mirrored Hawk's final advice, which she had yet to share with anyone. He'd waited until the verge of death to tell her. That alone gave her pause in letting even her best friends know. But what had he meant?
Go to the heart of Tryton's . . . and speak the words of your heritage.
She didn't know. Aimless, she flew around the school, eventually ending up at the Library. The doors opened with a touch of her magic and she flew into the great hall. Issuing a faint creak, the doors closed behind her. She'd intended on going to Siarra's refuge, but instead found her way to the glass topped room near the top of the castle.
It had often been the place where she'd met Hawk. Sinking into her usual seat, she released a long sigh. The armchair that Hawk had always occupied sat across from her, empty.
"What did you mean?" she said aloud.
The chair didn't answer, and after a while she grew restless and prowled the room. Towering bookshelves framed the twin fires that perpetually burned in the opposite hearths. Avoiding them, she strode to the bay window. At twenty feet across, the glass curved in a wide span that gave an unparalleled view of the grounds below.
Soft benches had been placed against the window but she didn't feel like sitting. Stepping onto a small raised section of the floor, she tried to imagine what the heart of Tryton's could mean.
When no answer presented itself she turned away and stepped off the raised section. Four steps away she paused and turned back. Three feet in diameter, the piece she'd stood on was lifted off the floor a few inches, and resembled a pedestal of some kind. She'd never noticed it before, but now a stray thought crossed her mind.
What if Hawk had met her in this room for a reason?
She returned to the stone and bent to examine it. Smooth and bereft of scratches, it was as if something had rested here before magic had cut it from its base. Perhaps a statue of some kind . . .
She rose to her feet, her mind leaping to another place at the school, where another statue rested. What if . . . the statue of Siarra Elseerian, the founder of Tryton's, had been moved when the larger school had been built?
A chill raised the hair on her skin, and she spun on her heels. Diving into the air she raced down the spiral staircase and out the front doors. From there she poured her magic into her flight, accelerating across Tryton's with the speed of certainty.
She reached the large doors of the World Room and slowed, abruptly afraid that she was wrong. Her hands shook as she used her magic to unlock the door. She strode inside the darkened chamber to find it empty. She gestured to a few of the lights, causing the center of the space to be illuminated.
The World Room contained living trees and real streams on the floor and walls. Gurgling under ornate walkways, the brooks cycled back and repeated their path. Flowers dotted the floor, while a small ocean filled one corner. Built to represent the whole of the Earth, the chamber contained a focal point.
Etched in perfect detail, the statue of Siarra Elseerian stood tall and proud. Founder of Tryton's Academy of Magic, discoverer of gravity magic, Siarra had helped defeat Draeken, and was Tess's ancestor from an age of magic.
Tess strode to the statue with her heart battering her chest. Then she recalled Hawk's second admonition. Speak the words of your heritage. She felt a flash of annoyance. What did that mean . . . and then suddenly she knew.
She'd never voiced them, never out loud. To do so meant to fully accept her identity, her responsibility for the people on Earth. A year ago she could not say it—but much had changed. She'd fought the Dark and its Twisted. She'd battled a black reaver and stood her ground against her mother. She straightened, and spoke with the power and authority of her birthright.
"I am the Oracle of Lumineia."
—And the statue began to change.
White light exploded from the stone, shimmering as it brightened. Like heat had been applied to ice, the stone melted into flesh. Piercing blue eyes blinked with clarity and shifted to look down upon her. The stone hair turned to silvery blonde and moved as the air pulled it. Then the magic reached her torso.
Flecks of dust cascaded off her arms as Siarra cracked them free. Her chest, waist, and then legs thawed from solid rock into supple clothing, legs, and boots. Only the lightning tattoo on her right arm remained as it was. Last to change, the sword she carried brightened and turned to shimmering steel.
Siarra Elseerian, founder of Tryton's Academy of Magic and ancient oracle of Lumineia, released a deep sigh and stepped down from the pedestal. Alive and whole after thousands of years as a guardian, she straightened and took her first breath. Then she met Tess's stunned gaze. Her eyes searing with determination, Siarra sheathed her sword.
"As am I, young one. As am I."
The Chronicles of Lumineia
By Ben Hale
—The White Mage Saga—
Assassin's Blade (Short story prequel)
The Last Oracle
The Sword of Elseerian
Descent Unto Dark
Impact of the Fallen
The Forge of Light
—The Second Draeken War—
Elseerian
The Gathering
Seven Days
The List Unseen
—The Warsworn—
The Flesh of War
The Age of War
The Heart of War (Dec 2015)
Author Bio
Originally from Utah, Ben has grown up with a passion for learning almost everything. Driven particularly to reading caused him to be caught reading by flashlight under the covers at an early age. While still young, he practiced various sports, became an Eagle Scout, and taught himself to play the piano. This thirst for knowledge gained him excellent grades and helped him graduate college with honors, as well as become fluent in three languages after doing volunteer work in Brazil. After school, he started and ran several successful businesses that gave him time to work on his numerous writing projects. His greatest support and inspiration comes from his wonderful wife and five beautiful children. Currently he resides in Florida while working on his latest writing and business endeavors.
To contact the author, discover more about Lumineia, or find out about the upcoming sequels, check out his website at Lumineia.com. You can also follow the author on twitter @ BenHale8 or Facebook.
ite Mage Saga #4 (The Chronicles of Lumineia)